How to Start a Self Discovery
by Snowflake Flower
Summary: Half character study, half shameless Astrid/Hiccup fluff. "Astrid heard Hiccup's stool creak, signalling he had risen. She waited for him to back away, but jumped a bit when his lips pressed softly on the nape of her neck."
1. Hiccup the Affectionate

**How to Start a Self-Discovery**

**Chapter 1: Hiccup the Affectionate**

_The weight of the axe was heavy compared to her short, chubby arms. She didn't like the feel of the smooth wooden handle as she balanced precariously on her tiny feet, distributing her weight unevenly to compensate for the weighted metal of the weapon. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she tightened her grip, the pounding unable to drown out the two sounds hammering into her. One was obnoxious and frightening, and the other was but a tiny whimper, helpless and pleading. And she didn't know why, but her body was responding more to the voice at her back, yelling at her._

"_Do it, girl! Or you'll never become a proper Viking!"_

_Her nerves shivered at the sound of the thunderous voice, almost like Thor was at her heels. So the child stumbled a bit as she lifted the heavy axe, the sharp edge gleaming maliciously in the sunlight as it hovered over the small creature tied up in ropes. It began to whimper louder, curling its head as best it could into its chest, brilliant blue scales standing out against the green grass. _

_Her breath hitched, arms freezing up as she hesitated for the slightest second…_

"_ASTRID!"_

_Eyes slamming closed, the young Astrid Hofferson swung down with all her might, trying to focus only on the sharp gasp of her voice as something warm splattered onto her face, staining her hands. Her breath was beginning to shorten with every passing second, a lightened, disbelieving feeling overpowering her. She only vaguely heard her father, muttering something about how it was "good enough" before opening her eyes and staring down at her tiny hands._

_They were trembling._

_With blood._

...

...

...**  
**

"_No!_" Astrid gasped, jolting up in bed just as the first rays of light scattered in through her window. Her forehead teemed with sweat, hands clutching tightly at the bedsheets as she sighed in relief at the familiar sight of her bedroom. Her hands unclenched from their death grip, and she relaxed in the early hours of dawn, running a hand through her scraggly blonde hair. There was a squawk from beside her, and Astrid turned to meet one of her Deadly Nadder's eyes as it turned its head to peer carefully at her. It jerked its head up and down, checking for signs of injuries. Astrid laughed softly at the dragon's obvious display of concern, reaching out to pet it.

"Morning Sigrid," the Viking greeted, inching out of bed to start the day. "You have a good sleep, girl?" The Deadly Nadder squawked again in response, slowly rising from the floor, careful not to stab her rider with her spiky tail. Astrid opened the large back doors in her new bedroom, letting Sigrid out to stretch her legs while her owner got ready for the day.

Astrid turned to look at her bedroom, smiling a little when she remembered how all the houses needed to be rebuilt to suit some of the bonded riders. Her mother had agreed to increase the size of her room, eyeing the blue-scaled dragon a little suspiciously as she redid the floor plans. But Astrid didn't care, too happy about being able to have a permanent home, without fear of it burning down from night raids.

"Astrid?" a voice asked, peering in from the door. It was her mother, a burly Viking woman who was starting to get used to not having any dragons to fight. She was still edgy and uncomfortable around the dragons, but it was vastly better than the days before, when she would carry her axe around all the time, just _waiting_ for Sigrid to step a claw out of line.

"Hey mom," Astrid greeted, beginning to braid her hair into its customary style, securing it with a piece of string. "I'm going to head out with Sigrid soon. Don't bother making me breakfast; I'll nick something from Hiccup's." she said, turning to grab her fur boots and slip them on. Astrid didn't see the slight disapproving look in her mother's eyes, as the woman was more than a little unsure about letting her daughter mooch off the chieftain of the tribe. But there was an underlying sadness in them, showing years of sorrow locked away in order to preserve the harsh persona of the Vikings.

"At least _look_ at it, Astrid," her mother almost pleaded (because Vikings didn't plead). The younger Viking paused in her trek out the back doors, her shoulders stiffening. She was silent as she turned around slowly, her headband showing more expression than her actual face. She brushed past her mother, coldly, making her way into the main room of the house.

It was a pretty normal Viking house, where the kitchen and the dinning room blended together for easy manoeuvrability. Normally, there would be weapons hung on the walls, but they had all been stowed away into chests when Sigrid had squawked angrily and fearfully at them. There was only one weapon hung on the walls; a large, heavy axe that was placed, not for convenient pick-up, but as an object of prayer. It was not a ceremonial weapon of any sort; in fact it was not really special at all.

Except for the fact it was her father's.

A bitter smile graced her lips as she stared coldly at it, that ice-hot fury ripping through her chest as she watched it gleam on the wall. Her mother was watching from the doorway of her bedroom, hopeful as always that her teenage daughter would forgive her stupid husband for his blatant disappointment in her. But it was always the same prayer, from last year to this year. And that wasn't going to change.

"Thank Freyja that you're gone."

Astrid's mother, Hilda, winced when the prayer left her daughter's mouth. It was never good to speak ill of the dead, but Astrid was never as superstitious as her mother. She used to be a very loving, obedient child when she was young; when her father was still alive. Nowadays, Astrid thrived in the rebellious nature of her teen years, glaring hatefully up at her father's prized weapon on the wall. If she was allowed to, Hilda suspected Astrid would've melted it in Gobber's smithery and thrown the liquid metal into the ocean long ago.

"I'm going," the young Viking said curtly, taking care not to stomp her feet against the wooden floor like a child as she left the house. Hilda sighed when the door shut behind her, hearing Astrid whistling to Sigrid to join her at the front of the house. Hilda sank into one of the chairs at the dining table, turning her head up to stare at the axe resting forlornly on the wall.

She normally did not partake in speaking ill of the dead, but Hilda figured that if dragons could roam their land freely, she could scold her husband from where he was up in Valhalla. And so, a wry smile twisted her lips as she muttered, "You know, you have only yourself to blame."

...

...

...**  
**

Astrid's eyes were narrowed as she marched down the village, Sigrid following behind her cautiously. She was trying not to think about the axe with the special resting spot in her home, snarling viciously to herself as she started hiking up the hill to the chieftain's house. Toothless was already outside, a sack of fish in front of him that he was eating and keeping away from two Terrible Terrors. Sigrid squawked happily when she saw the fish, bounding towards it before Toothless snarled nastily at her and the tinier dragons. But the Deadly Nadder was sufficiently distracted when an amused voice cut through the morning air.

"Hey, hey, there's enough to go around."

Astrid's shoulders slumped from their former rigidity as she saw Hiccup with another pack of fish slung over his shoulder, dropping it as Sigrid neared. The blue-scaled dragon squawked happily at the brown-haired human, diving for the fish and ignoring Hiccup's comforting hand petting the side of her head.

"Hi Hiccup," Astrid greeted as she reached the top of the hill, smiling slightly when he turned to beam at her.

"Astrid!" He exclaimed, as if surprised she had come trailing behind her blue-scaled dragon. "Hey, you hungry? I just made breakfast." Hiccup jabbed his thumb behind him, to his two-story home where smoke was rising from the chimney. Astrid flushed red when her stomach rumbled a bit, nodding and following the taller boy inside.

Has it really only been two years? Astrid thought as she entered the much larger home of the chieftain. They were just shy of fifteen summers (or winters?) when Hiccup had managed to de-wing Toothless during the night raid. Now, the son of the Viking chief was _really_ looking like he was the son of the Viking chief. Granted, he wasn't heavily muscled like Snotlout (who had grown to be just like his father, if not more so), or big like Fishlegs (a big burly guy with amazing observation skills); he wasn't massively tall like Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and the dragon rider was still nowhere _close_ to as good as Astrid with weapons. But he had _definitely_ (oh, for sure, definitely) grown.

"We don't have any fish this morning, because Toothless likes to eat all the ones in the house," Hiccup explained as they neared the kitchen, chuckling and ducking under a rafter in the house that he was tall enough to knock his head into. "My dad left some meat over though, which is weird 'cause he usually hogs all of it before I even get up in the morning." Astrid smiled at the other Viking's ramblings, brushing her sunny blonde hair behind her ear when she saw him lift a closed crate of his father's weapons away from the storage of meat.

Hiccup's muscles weren't exactly Viking material, given that by Viking standards he was still a scrawny little thing that looks as though it could be snapped in two. But Astrid, being rather thin herself, could see the definition of muscle in Hiccup's entire body. He was far from the twig-thin figure he used to have two years ago, his growth catching up with him as his body fleshed out and his shoulders broadened. He still wasn't as powerful as the other Vikings, but Astrid was sure Hiccup could easily win in a fight if he wanted to. With her tutoring, he was more than adequate with a sword (nothing else except a sword, mind you) and his cunning intelligence made him a worthy foe in the ring.

That's not to say his physicality was the only thing that grew. Despite the first few rough months of adjusting to his new prosthetic, Hiccup's confidence had grown in leaps and bounds. There was a short period of time where Astrid struggled to reign in Hiccup's outlandish proclamations of "all this _raw Viking... ness_" whenever he suddenly decided to get bigheaded. It was quickly replaced with a quiet sort of confidence that she felt suited him more, as his dragon was more than boastful enough for the two of them.

But if there was one thing Astrid was immensely grateful for in the growth and maturity of Hiccup's personality, it was undoubtedly his more open feelings in terms of their relationship.

Astrid was the epitome of the Viking warrior. She was tough and stubborn, unwilling to show weakness with a strong determination to prove herself. As such, Astrid was largely detached from her own emotional feelings because they were considered weak. But Hiccup was the complete opposite, having accepted his differences with his individuality and the rest of the Viking tribe. And he showed it to Astrid and the rest of his village, openly showering her with chaste kisses in the broad daylight, or lacing their fingers together. He didn't care what other people thought. Hiccup was content to be different, as he once told her.

"_Astrid_," she heard a voice croon in her ear softly, and gasped. Hiccup was hovering behind her, his breath soft and ticklish against her ears. She shivered at the sound of his lower, huskier voice, feeling his larger hands splayed across her wide hips. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, and Astrid blushed.

"Nothing," she muttered, stepping forward to snag a piece of bread and gnaw at it. Hiccup just chuckled at her obvious embarrassment, leaning down to place a soft kiss at her neck before walking away to fetch his own breakfast.

He was so _affectionate_. It was disconcerting, really, for any sort of Viking to see this type of behaviour. But there was something in Astrid that liked his open, emotional character. It drew her to him, and for the longest time she couldn't figure out why.

Which is why, that day, Astrid resolved to find out.


	2. Target Practice

**How to Start a Self-Discovery**

**Chapter 2: Target Practice**

_She shuffled unsteadily on her feet, hiding her blue eyes behind her curtain of blonde hair. The boy across from her was gazing curiously at the little blue dragon that was curled up into a very tight ball. There was a large grin on his face that was offset by Astrid's nervous shifting, and his green eyes were sparkling with barely restrained excitement. _

"_Is… is it a dwagon?" she asked in a hush, the little animal wound up so tight it almost looked like an egg. The boy, on his hands and knees, nodded and grinned toothily._

"_A Deady Naddr," he replied, reaching out to touch it. Astrid wanted to stop him when she realized what he was doing, but it was too late when the little dragon woke up just before the boy's hand touched her scales._

_Letting out an, "eep!" Astrid ducked down behind her companion, burrowing her face in his stiff shoulder blades. She waited a few seconds for something; a blast of fire, or maybe some small spikes to shoot out at her, but nothing came. So, slowly, Astrid peeked her eyes out from the boy's shoulder, blinking her sky blue eyes when she saw the 'Deady Naddr' angling its face to one side. A large yellow eye was studying them curiously, but showed no signs of hostility. Instead, it padded quickly around Astrid's human shield, peering at her with its other eye._

"_I think it likes you," the boy whispered excitedly, and Astrid 'eep'ed again. She hadn't even known him for most of the morning and already, he was taking her further into the woods she's ever been and showing her scary dragons that were starting to look not-so-scary. In fact, the one in front of her was creeping forward, bumping its little horn against her hand as if asking her to pet it._

_Astrid giggled, obliging the baby dragon and running her tiny hand along its cool scales. The boy beside her joined in as well, scratching at the Deadly Nadder's neck as it growled softly in approval. A large yawn rose from its jaw, and it stumbled sleepily into Astrid's lap, where it curled up and promptly fell asleep._

_A little 'o' forming on her lips, Astrid looked up at the boy (Hiccup?) and his cheeky smile. It was entirely too smug for his own good, and her arm reared back to punch him. _

_(The smile didn't leave his face.)_

_(Astrid's didn't either.)_

...

...

...**  
**

"Ow! That hurt!"

Astrid rolled her eyes, not amused.

"Then get out of the way!"

Hiccup, plastered to a wall, sent an annoyed glance at his girlfriend.

"Oh yeah, sure. Just dodge the spinning weapons of death that the best marksman in the Hairy Hooligan Tribe can throw. No big deal."

Astrid scowled at him, hefting an axe up in her throwing arm and taking position. She heard Hiccup swear faintly under his breath, drawing a snort from Toothless who was lazing just outside the steel bars of the Dragon Training arena. Sigrid was poking her nose through the large gaps in the barred dome, angling her face to the side to follow Hiccup's movements as he tucked and rolled.

"Quit whining," Astrid shouted at him from the opposite end of the training area. "You're the fastest Viking in the tribe. If Snotlout was in here, he wouldn't last two seconds before you two become a matching set!" Hiccup, despite his rather dire circumstances, snorted in laughter as he ducked an incoming axe, glancing down at his prosthetic. (Astrid couldn't help the grin that came onto her face as well.)

"Hey, I can totally outrun a one-legged Viking!"

Hiccup couldn't help grinning as he straightened up from another tuck and roll, seeing Snotlout, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and Fishlegs standing at the entrance of the training ground. Their dragons had joined Toothless and Sigrid topside, a few Terrible Terrors running around to entertain them.

"Oh, yeah, because the race with Gobber the Belch _totally_ didn't count," Ruffnut snorted, placing a hand on her hip. Tuffnut and Fishlegs snickered behind her, prompting Snotlout to growl again. But he ignored them, sauntering over to Astrid in that cocky way of his, no doubt attempting to butter her up in hopes she would dump Hiccup for him. (Fat chance, really.)

"Whatever dudes," Snotlout scoffed, throwing an arm over Astrid as he tried grinning roguishly at her. "So Astrid, wicked throwing arm. You been workin' out again?" he asked, prompting Astrid to roll her eyes a second time that day, eyeing his hand dangling dangerously close to her chest. "You know, I've been workin' out too. We should work out together sometIME!!"

Snotlout shrieked (in a manly way, of course), when Astrid grabbed his arm and twisted it off her body, sending it crashing into the ground. Everyone in the ring laughed at the rejection, but Astrid simply smirked when she heard him groaning on the ground. Picking up the axe that she stuck into the floor before wiping it with Snotlout's sad attempts at wooing, the weapons specialist slung it over her shoulder before sending another well-aimed throw at Hiccup.

"Whoa!" Hiccup exclaimed as he ducked again, hands over his head. When his eyes opened to glance at his girlfriend in the, 'what was that for?' way, she just gave him another pointed glance and crossed her arms.

"Pay _attention_, Hiccup. An enemy isn't going to be stupidly honourable like you and make it a fair fight," she told him matter-of-factly. Hiccup sighed, mumbling 'okay, okay' under his breath as he got back onto his feet. Satisfied that he was taking her advice seriously, Astrid started to pick up the axes and throw them back into the weapon crates. Hiccup followed her lead, motioning the others to join in to get the job done faster. Once it was done, Hiccup grinned and picked up a straight sword from one pile of weapons.

"Hey, how 'bout we spar next?" the Dragon Tamer suggested, twirling the sword in his hand deftly. Snotlout grinned, snatching up a hammer and tapping it lightly against his palm.

"Oh, bring it _on_, dude," the muscled Viking prompted. Ruffnut growled at him, grabbing a mace from another crate and pushing the somewhat shorter Viking away.

"No way, ladies first," she argued, winking at Hiccup (who gulped nervously). But Tuffnut laughed from his position leaning against the wall, dragging the tip of his wickedly curved blade against the ground.

"But Astrid's been training with Hiccup for most of the morning," the male twin said innocently, prompting his sister to growl at him. The two promptly engaged in another one of their brother-sister spats, only this time with their respective weapons in hand. Fishlegs stood near them, and was very glad he decided to pick up a wayward shield in each of their hunts in the weapons crates.

But Astrid didn't hear the fighting, her eyes trained on the comfortable ease in which Hiccup held his straight sword. He was laughing at Ruff and Tuff, sword thrown over his shoulder with the blade shining in the sunlight. The blonde-haired Viking didn't know why, but the sight of Hiccup holding a sword unsettled her a lot. It didn't matter how many times she saw him handle it with the skill of a master, or the fact that it was _her_ that taught him in the first place; the idea of Hiccup and weapons just didn't… _go_.

"No sparring," Astrid said, striding forward to snatch the sword out of Hiccup's grip. An internal sigh of relief swept through her body, and Astrid threw the sword into a weapons box. "Your tuck and roll still needs work. Toothless!"

At the sound of his name, the Night Fury's head popped up from its lazy spot on the floor, ears upright in alertness and pupils wide. He spotted Astrid shoving his rider a round shield, and a forked tongue lolled in happiness when he realized what he would be asked to do. Quickly bounding into the arena (and ignoring the other people who ran _out_ of the arena to avoid him) Toothless settled himself beside his rider's mate, tail wagging in excitement. Hiccup just looked annoyed.

"What am I today, target practice?"

Astrid raised a hand, patting Toothless' neck as she grinned at her boyfriend with the shield dangling in his hand.

"Yep."

Yelping, Hiccup brought the shield up to block Toothless' first fire shot. Astrid observed him carefully as he underwent the same tuck and roll, duck and dodge strategy he had used for her axe throwing. His prosthetic (after undergoing many adjustments in the first year of its use) didn't appear to want to malfunction anytime soon. It was a good thing too, since Toothless didn't seem to want to stop firing shots at his rider. Funny, as half a year ago the dragons were just barely starting to get used to their riders charging at each other with pointy and dangerous weapons.

Weapons weren't a tolerable point for dragons until very recently. A Viking carrying a weapon often reminded them of the night raids, and the times they answered to the Green Death and the Green Death alone. It was only with Hiccup's help, and Toothless' example that the dragons started to tolerate the appearance of weapons. Hiccup had to explain the Viking's need for weapons to Toothless, likening it to a dragon needing their fire to protect themselves. But it was a whole other story when you were talking about humans, dragons, _and _weapons.

Ironically enough, it was Stoick the Vast who broke the barrier of Viking training with a dragon, weapon in hand. Toothless had been watching his rider's father training, and Stoick had accidentally thrown a weapon in the Night Fury's direction. Retaliating, the Night Fury shot a blast of his unique fire at Stoick, who dodged and decided it was crossing the line to let a dragon attack him without repercussions. From there, the two waged an all-out war until Hiccup came running and screaming, stopping the two and sending them both into hearty laughs (in their respective tongues). It had sparked a whole new way of training, despite the reluctance at first because of the fear of falling back into the old Viking lifestyle.

"Okay, Toothless, that's enough for today," Astrid said, patting the Night Fury on the neck again. Toothless obliged, closing his mouth and grumbling in satisfaction when she started to scratch him behind the ears. Hiccup was catching his breath on the other side of the arena, throwing the burnt shield into a crate of weapons needing to be fixed and limping over to the Night Fury.

"Couldn't go easy on me, could you buddy?" Hiccup asked, patting Toothless' nose as it nudged at his hand. The dragon's replied growl seemed to be a chuckle more than anything else, prompting Hiccup to roll his eyes before smiling softly and hugging his neck. Astrid watched from a little ways away, a comforted feeling sweeping through her body as she watched the dragon and the rider together.

_This_ was where Hiccup belonged. Not lugging an axe or a sword or a shield around. Not training with other Vikings in the art of combat every day at the crack of dawn. He belonged beside his dragon friends, loving and caring and nurturing each and every one of them as they flocked to his side. It was Astrid's job to excel in battle, and be the tougher of the two, not Hiccup's. It was up to her to have the will and the guts to slay any creature, dragon or human alike, if they dared cross her or those she deemed precious. Hiccup was supposed to remain docile and pure, untainted by the eternal blood that would inevitably stain his hands had he so chosen to kill. It was Astrid that would take all that he should have endured as son of the Viking Chief. _She_ would be the one to paint her body red with the blood of her victims. Why?

Because Astrid was tough. Because _Astrid _could handle it.

Right?


	3. It's Okay To Be A Girl Sometimes

**How to Start a Self-Discovery**

**Chapter 3: It's Okay to Be a Girl... Sometimes**

_Astrid really liked flowers. She would always wander out into the woods to look at them growing randomly against trees, or in a patch of grass. Sometimes, if she was feeling brave, Astrid would pick one of the pretty flowers and stick them into her headband, giggling a bit as it flopped lopsidedly into her face. _

_Astrid liked flowers, so she wondered why her father hated them._

_It was one day that she was feeling bolder and braver than ever, like a real Viking; Astrid decided to wander out into the woods again and picked a flower, securing it in her headband. But then she thought back to her mother and her father in their little hut in the village, and wondered if they had ever seen flowers before. Astrid was fairly sure the two of them would love flowers, because who couldn't love such things of beauty?_

_So Astrid spent the better part of an hour crouched down in a little patch of the flora, trying to decide how to organize the jumbled bouquet and wondering which colours her parents would like best. Halfway through her task, Astrid decided that her parents would probably fight over the beautiful bouquet, and started to pick more flowers to make a second set._

_It was finally two hours past when Astrid straightened up, grinning at the two sets of vibrantly-coloured flowers in her tiny fists. She made her way back to the village, showing her mother the beautiful set with a toothy smile. Her mother looked surprised down at the plants, before smiling (sadly?) and accepting them with a curt nod. Astrid, excited that her mother liked them, quickly found her father in the kitchen as he poked the fireplace, adding more wood._

"_Look, father!" she had cried, thrusting both tiny arms out to present her gift. "Aren't they pretty?"_

_Astrid was expecting him to beam happily (and for a moment was excited at the idea, because she had never seen him smile like that) and take the flowers, patting her head and telling her he loved her with all his heart._

_Instead, he roared angrily and chucked the charred stick at her, snatching the flowers out of her frightened hands and throwing them into the fire to burn away into ashes. _

"_Stupid girl!" he spat out, slamming his hand on the table. "Stop bothering me with such useless things!"_

"_S-sorry, father," Astrid whimpered, flinching when his voice roared again for her to leave him alone. She did so quickly and quietly, ducking out the door of her house to run to the hill that overlooked Berk. It was there that she met her friend, Hiccup, who was holding a stick and trailing it against the dirt floor._

"_Hi Astrid!" he called in greeting, his lips beaming in a smile that Astrid really liked. His large green eyes flickered up to her headband, where her blue flower was still hanging lazily. "Nice flower!"_

_Startled, Astrid's hand flew up to the long-stemmed plant hiding in the blonde locks of her hair, and frowned. She held back the tears that wanted to come out, grabbing the flower and hurling it onto the floor. Her leather boot crashed down over the beautiful flora, twisting to further mash it into the dirt._

"_Flowers are stupid," Astrid told Hiccup as she marched over to him, ignoring the surprised widening of his eyes. "They're stupid and useless. And Vikings don't need stupid or useless things."_

...

...

...**  
**

"Are you _stupid_, or did you not hear me the first time?!" Astrid shouted angrily, hands planted on her hips as she glared at Hiccup with the sword in his hand. "_No _sparring!"

Snotlout rolled his eyes, hiking the hammer on his shoulder while Tuffnut snickered and Fishlegs fidgeted under Astrid's heavy gaze. Ruffnut rose an eyebrow at Astrid's proclamation, mirroring Hiccup's before his lips settled in a frown.

"I gotta do some offensive training, _sometime_, Astrid," Hiccup reasoned before a grin lightened his face. "At this rate, Toothless will die before I get some action." Toothless' ears perked up at the sound of his name (he had retreated back to the outer area of the training dome), and he huffed before settling back down again.

"Come on, babe, it's just a little friendly fight. I'll go easy on the wimp here, promise," Snotlout boasted, falling into an attack stance as he faced Hiccup. Astrid quickly picked up the double-axed pole at her feet, throwing it at Snotlout to embed it into the ground as a warning.

"I. _Said_. No. _Sparring_!" she hissed, causing Snotlout to quiver nervously, and Hiccup to become more worried about his girlfriend. Ruffnut sighed, getting tired of this hold-up and grabbing Astrid's wrist.

"Come on," she said, her height being a significant advantage as she herded Astrid along, out of the training ring. "Let the sissy guys have their fun. We can come back later and kick their butts." Snotlout and Tuffnut shouted indignantly at that presumption, prompting Hiccup to grin in amusement and chuckle over at Fishlegs (who simply shrugged and smiled).

Ruffnut dragged a kicking and screaming Astrid all the way back up to her house, throwing her inside the room she shared with her brother and slapping Astrid's head to shut her up. "Geez, Ash. Hiccup's a Viking too, you have to let him train like everyone else," the female twin muttered, opening her closet and digging around inside of it.

"Hiccup's at a severe disadvantage with only one leg to rely on. He'd get seriously hurt in that ring!" Astrid shouted, trying to defend herself only to draw a snort from Ruffnut.

"Gobber the Belch has two missing limbs, and he's one of the best fighters in Berk," she reasoned. "And even though Hiccup's skinnier than a lot of Vikings, he's still a Viking. You can't really survive in a warrior clan without being a warrior yourself." Astrid pouted, crossing her arms and turning her head to the side, as if trying to avoid admitting that Ruffnut was right.

"He could be a bread-making Viking," she muttered helplessly, drawing laughter from the other female.

"Oh, _that'll_ be the talk of the town. 'Chieftain's son decides to make bread instead of lead the village of Berk!' Like we _really_ need more bread-makers." Astrid growled, growing tired of Ruffnut's teasing and turning to face her, ice blue eyes narrowed.

"What do you want, Ruffnut? I'm guessing I'm not just here for nothing." Ruffnut smirked, bobbing her head before reaching down and grabbing something from her chest of clothes. It was thrown at Astrid, smacking her in the face before falling in her outstretched hands. "A dress?"

"I've hatched another brilliant plan to make Hiccup fall in love with me!" Ruffnut said, grinning before pointing to a previously ignored bouquet of flowers in the room. "You know how all the guy Vikings here like to think they're all tough and stronger than us girls?" Astrid snorted at the understatement, her mind whirring to Snotlout and his irate sense of self-importance and invincibility. "Well, Hiccup's not like most Vikings, " oh _that_ was for sure, "so I figured he wouldn't want a Viking girl that was like most Viking girls. _So_," Ruffnut plucked the long dress from Astrid, holding it out in front of her and smiling, "I'll wear a dress!"

Astrid blinked.

"A dress."

Ruffnut nodded.

"A dress."

Astrid was silent, wondering whether or not she should really care right now.

She decided she didn't want to.

"Okay, well, good luck with trying to steal my boyfriend away from me. " (Hiccup's sarcasm was really rubbing off way too much.) "I'm going to go make sure Snotlout hasn't decided he wants another Gobber around to beat him in a race."

Astrid turned swiftly to walk out, yelping when a hand ensnared her long braid, yanking her back into the room.

"Ruffnut—" Astrid started, only for the rest of her sentence to be muffled as Ruffnut smothered her mouth with the green Viking dress. She was further mollified when she felt the straps of her armoured skirt start to give way, her hands scrambling to keep it up. "Ruffnut!" Astrid barked out harshly, the dress falling to the floor in a heap as she pushed the taller girl off of her.

"Astrid, come on! I need you to try the dress on for my plan to work properly!" Ruffnut whined, still tugging at Astrid's skirt. The weapons specialist held fast though, her eyes narrowed and glaring at the twin who was currently trying to undress her and confuse her at the same time.

"And why in the name of Freyja do you need me to try on _your_ dress?" she asked, Ruffnut pouting when the other girl brought in the name of the female god they worshipped.

"So I can spy on my competition, duh," Ruffnut stated as if it was the most obvious thing, successfully tugging Astrid's skirt off of her and quickly (or quickly trying to) take her shoulder-pads off. Astrid, already used to the strange sense of logic from Ruffnut and her twin brother, grunted when one of her metal shoulder-pads smacked her in the face, leaving her dazed and open for Ruffnut to stuff the dress over her head. "Awesome!" Ruffnut exclaimed, stepping back to observe her handiwork, only to frown as she got a good look at Astrid. "Okay, not awesome. You totally look like Freyja in human skin. Not fair, Astrid."

Astrid huffed, wishing she could get the dress off of her without help (but unfortunately, could not). "I didn't exactly ask to be put in this dress," she muttered, crossing her arms. The necklace that rested against her breasts was getting in the way of Astrid trying to cross her arms and look stern. She was thoroughly put off, exclaiming "In fact, I hate this thing! Get me out of it, now!"

Ruffnut moved to do as she was told, only for a Viking woman to burst in, livid, screaming, "Out! Out of my house if you can't pipe down!" Astrid found herself forcibly removed from the Thorston hut, protesting loudly the entire way but not loud enough to overpower Mrs. Thorston's overpowering voice. "A woman _tries_ to get some sleep when her blasted twins are finally out of the house, only for one twin to bring friends and make _more_ noise! You youngsters have no consideration these days!"

With a huff and a slam of the door, Mrs. Thorston disappeared from sight, and Astrid glared furiously at Ruffnut, who was glaring furiously back at Astrid.

"Gimmie my dress!"

"Get me out of this!"

Both sentences were shouted at the same time, blending and mixing the two until they were unintelligible. But Astrid, who was obviously the more sensible of the two, growled and spun around. "_I'm_ going to go home and get this ridiculous thing off me. You can say good-bye to it until tomorrow morning." Ignoring Ruffnut's protests, Astrid began to march back to her house, lamenting the loss of her clothes back in the Thorston household and the unusually sunny day in Berk that made the dress stuffier than ever to wear.

Ugh, Astrid hated flowers, and it was just her luck that there were floral designs sewed into the dress. For most of her life, Astrid always hated flowers, but she never really knew why. She supposed it was because they were just pretty. I mean, they weren't very useful for a Viking, who was warrior and needed items that would aid a warrior in battle. Hiccup liked flowers for some weird reason, which only made Astrid hate them more.

Speaking of Hiccup, Astrid saw him wandering around outside her house, looking in to see if she was there. Unable to help the smile on her lips, she crept up on him, shushing the Night Fury who had looked back curiously at her. "Hi Hiccup," she greeted as she appeared right at his back, causing him to jump and whirl around to look at her.

"Oh! Astrid, I needed to talk… to… you…"

Dumbfounded, Hiccup's jaw dropped open as he gazed at Astrid in the traditional Viking dress, her necklace emphasizing a particularly pleasing area to him. He didn't bother being subtle at all, striking green eyes riveted to a spot below her collarbone.

Astrid blushed red, taking in her won ogle-worthy sight as a bare-chested Hiccup met her blue eyes. He was still wearing his fur vest, but had obviously stripped off his long-sleeved green shirt in the middle of sparring. Though not as heavily muscled as the rest of the Vikings, that didn't mean Hiccup was without his own toned abs. Which were, at the moment, glistening with sweat that glittered in the sunlight.

Toothless, impatient, nudged his rider with his tail, growling softly. Hiccup snapped out of his trance, gulping as he forced his eyes back up to Astrid's face.

"I should go," he said, prompting Astrid to snap out of her own trance, blushing wildly. Toothless ambled away, giving the two a little alone time and running off to terrorize a pack of Terrible Terrors. Hiccup was very thankful for the dragon's thoughtfulness, stepping forward to breathe softly on Astrid's blonde bangs, running a large hand down the side of her face. His touch sent shocks through her cheek. "I should _really_ go," he murmured again, dipping his face to brush his lips in a feather-light touch across hers.

Astrid's breath hitched under his husky tone, fingers trembling as she grasped at the edges of his open fur vest. "R-right," she agreed, but found herself drawn closer to Hiccup's uneven breaths as he splayed an open-mouthed kiss on her lips.

It was unlike anything Astrid had ever felt before. Normally, her kisses with Hiccup were pleasant, and butterfly-inducing, and altogether incredibly sweet. But _this_ kiss; this kiss was beyond that. This meeting of lips and hands and bodies was aggressive and passionate, igniting her Viking soul and making it burn hotter than it's ever burned. She felt weak and strong all at the same time, melting under Hiccup but tightening her fists furiously on his clothes. She felt helpless under Hiccup's ministrations as his large hands traveled down from her face to her hips, pulling her flush against him and causing her to gasp softly into his mouth. It was strange.

Astrid felt like a girl.

"Oh man," Hiccup chuckled when he pulled away, running a hand through his hair and raking his heated eyes down Astrid's ravished figure. "I really need to go now before I do something I regret." Astrid took a shuddering breath, her heart pounding in her ears as she only partially registered the extent of Hiccup's words. When it came through, her hands immediately released their grasp on his vest, and she stepped back quickly.

"R-right," she repeated, only now the reply was less breathy and more awkward. Hiccup didn't feel that awkwardness, though, and quickly pecked Astrid on the forehead before limping away to Toothless (who was laughing at one of the Terrors). Astrid watched him go, feeling her heart beating wildly under her hand and her legs quivering with the aftershocks of Hiccup's amazing kiss. And for a moment, Astrid thought it wasn't so bad being a girl.


	4. Keep Her Close

**How to Start a Self-Discovery**

**Chapter 4: Keep Her Close**

_The little bandage was slapped rather firmly onto her stinging cheek, but Astrid held back the whimper of pain that tried to slip past her lips. Her mother bustled around the great hall, clanking bowls and jars together as she scrapped up what was left of the midday meal and washed out the bowl she used to make the special Hofferson healing ointment. There was a palpable tension in her shoulders, and she clanged the plates together a bit harder than was normal._

_Astrid tried not to flinch when a plate of leftovers slammed in front of her on the table. She waited for her mom to flop tiredly onto the seat across from her, before carefully reaching out to snag a piece of chicken. The young girl managed to be fairly quiet as she ate with her tiny fingers, waiting inevitably for the strong, female Viking across from her to explode with anger. Problem was, Astrid was never so great at waiting._

"_It wasn't my idea," she started, trying to defend herself. Hilda glared at her, running a hand over her face in exhaustion._

"_And I suppose that makes it okay for you to be the mastermind behind the whole thing?" she shot back, sighing heavily. "Honestly Astrid, it'll only be a few more years until dragon training; you can stay out of the arena until then, can't you?"_

_Obviously she couldn't, seeing as that very afternoon Astrid and her group of ragtag friends had snuck into the dragon dome, letting loose the Deadly Nadder from its cage and spending the next few minutes screaming their lungs out. Well, everyone else except her. Hofferson's don't scream; they battle cry._

_Astrid pursed her lips and looked down at her lap, not responding to her mom's query. She heard another sigh from across the table. "Astrid; you could've died."_

"_Dad would've loved that."_

_Hilda slammed a hand on the table, making the plate jump and a few people from other tables look over. "Astrid!" she hissed, her eyes narrowing. The younger Viking winced at the loud sound, but refused to apologize for her comment. She had clearly already grown into her rebellious phase. "Astrid, you will not speak about your father that way."_

"_Fine," Astrid bit out, pushing the plate of food away and standing up; "I'll just think it." _

_Hilda sighed deeply as she watched her daughter walk away, knowing in her heart that Astrid was very much justified in her hatred for her so-called father. There was still a part of her though, the dutiful wife part, that wished otherwise. And it was there, sitting in the dim light of the candle, watching her daughter slam the large doors ominously as she walked out of the great hall, that Hilda Hofferson vowed to set her husband straight once he came home. _

_Only, the next day, when the ships from the hunting expedition came back, Boarguts Hofferson was not on them. And that very same day his daughter, Astrid Hofferson, was found trying to break into the dragon training ring again._

_..._

_..._

_...  
_

"What are you doing?"

Astrid let out a shriek, whirling around and seeing her mother standing in her doorway, a little grin on her mouth. She was staring pointedly at Astrid's fingers, which were attempting (and failing) to untie and take off Ruffnut's dress at the same time. It made her blush at being caught in this position by her mother, whom she once swore to that she would never wear a "stupid, girly, useless dress even if you took my axe and beat me over the head with it."

As it was, Astrid just mumbled, "Ruffnut," and her mother 'ahhh'ed' knowingly. The two girls had been friends since they could walk, and Hilda knew that while the girl twin of the Thorston's was rough as nails, she was also equally insane. After more than a decade of knowing her, Hilda and Astrid both had given up trying to decipher how her brain worked, and what actions her brain prompted her to take.

"Need some help?" Hilda offered, and Astrid nodded meekly. It made her smile, knowing that her daughter seldom asked for help. She stepped into the room, a little wary of Sigrid, who was just outside the large back doors, keening and rolling around in the bright green grass. Astrid was fine with leaving the doors open, though, and untangled her fingers from the ties of the dress, letting her mother take a crack at them with her much more skilful hands.

They stood in silence for the next while, Astrid holding up the dress with Hilda behind her, quickly undoing the strands. There was a comfortable silence lingering in the air that the two of them treasured, a sense of mother-daughter bonding that had not been felt for several years. Not since Astrid realized that, unlike her peers, her father did not love her as much as she originally thought he did. Even after he had… _gone_, his presence still lingered with the youngest Hofferson, palpable, like a stain on her soul.

"So…" Hilda said, trying to fill the silence, "What did Hiccup say?" Astrid, startled, looking over her shoulder at her mother's brown hair.

"Say about what?" she asked, and Hilda smiled teasingly.

"About the dress."

Astrid turned a flushed red, her mouth dropping open. She wrenched out of her mom's hold, whirling on her with an embarrassed, "_Mom!_" Hilda just held her hands up in defence, shrugging.

"You were right outside the house; how could I not have seen you?" she informed the young Viking dully, causing her to groan in more embarrassment and cover her face with her hands and the dress _in_ her hands. Hilda laughed heartily, stepping forward and patting her daughter's shoulder with a comforting hand. "Now Astrid, there's no reason for you to be like this. Stoick and I are halfway through the marriage negotiations; it's completely okay for the two of you to be kissing and such." At that, Astrid just groaned louder, turning away and covering her ears with her hands, trying to block out the sound of her mother's chuckles.

Sigrid looked up from her preening, concerned when she heard her rider making odd noises inside the house. Her head cocked to the side, one of her yellow eyes peering curiously into the room. She chirped, drawing Astrid and Hilda's attention after poking her head into the room. Hilda was on guard, backing up a bit, while Astrid just smiled and laughed, reaching out to pet her. "Hey girl," she greeted, nuzzling her horned nose. Sigrid squawked happily, bumping her cheek against Astrid's body. The dress had fallen down now that Astrid was no longer concerned with keeping it up, given that her dragon was currently slobbering all over her.

Hilda shook her head in exasperation, tromping out of the room and leaving Astrid to deal with her fire-breathing domestic pet. Only, when she got to the main room of the house, Ruffnut had shoved past her rather rudely, snarling under her breath as she opened the door to Astrid's room and slammed it shut behind her. Hilda sighed, sitting down and resigning herself to listening to two stubborn, Viking-headed girls duke it out over a dress that lay in wrinkles on the floor.

...

...

...

Astrid groaned, this time in annoyance as she rolled her shoulder, the "conversation" she had with Ruffnut having come to blows. She had _tried_ to explain that she wanted nothing to do with the stupid, useless dress, but Ruffnut had thought Astrid was only saying that to psyche her out, and promptly started pulling Astrid's braid to prove her point. Naturally, Astrid wasn't going to take that from anyone, and socked the girl in the face. That elevated to full-on wrestling match, which made Sigrid believe it was play-time, prompting _her_ to jump on the two of them as they wriggled on the floor.

Ouch, I know.

_Now_ Ruffnut thought she was an unfair fighter who ganged up on "poor-defenceless-girls-who-Hiccup-prefers" because she was secretly jealous that she wasn't poor and defenceless and girly enough for Hiccup. (Insert scoff here.) Having said that, Ruffnut snatched up her dress, glared at Astrid and Sigrid (who squawked in confusion) and stormed out the big back doors of the room. Of course, throughout all of this she failed to realize that _she_ started the fight.

Astrid sighed heavily again, swinging her arm around to see if that would help the soreness. She had gotten dressed again, as Ruffnut threw her clothes at her to start their fight when she barged into the room. Unfortunately, the Viking wasn't much inclined to handle said clothing delicately, she had observed, as a few of the spikes on her skirt had gone missing.

'_She was probably the one that ripped them out in the first place_," Astrid mused, sighing to herself in amusement as she made her way over to the smithery. Ruffnut tended to rip apart whatever was in her hands if she was angry; more often than not it was her brother. But he usually got back at her by his monstrously annoying habit of jabbing fun at the fact that she was a girl. But then Astrid would team up with Ruffnut, and he would be forced to take his words back; it was a vicious cycle. At least before Hiccup got involved.

Astrid sighed again, this time in frustration as her thoughts turned to the annoyingly unspoken leader of their little troupe. Astrid had always been commander of their group of friends; she was the strongest, and hence the most fit for the position. But then _Hiccup_ came along, toting accomplishments on his belt like being the first to ride a dragon, let alone the first to encounter a Night Fury and live. He had changed the very fabric of their lives, pulling the rug out from underneath them and displaying a much more wonderful world that they had never thought of before. He was… amazing. And the perfect leader, to boot.

Astrid had always ruled her friends with an iron first; you want to be leader? Then fight me and we'll see. Their magna carta was the stronger ruled the weaker, because the stronger would protect the weaker. Hiccup let his friends do whatever they wanted; he adopted a more _laissez-faire_ approach. Oh, Ruff and Tuff want to steal food from the dragons? Sure, go ahead. Snotlout wants to set loose a bunch of Terrible Terrors? Oh yeah perfectly fine. What? Astrid wants to kick all their butts and throw them in a cage for a day? Sounds like a great idea!

Well, maybe not in theory. Letting people do whatever they wanted usually spelled chaos, but it worked for Hiccup, mostly because there was always someone there to set everything straight (read: Astrid). He usually only asserted his leadership if he wanted to do some sort of group project, but otherwise Hiccup was content to stand on the sidelines and laugh at all the crazy antics of his new friends. He acted like he was just another person, just one piece of an incredibly complicated machine. And that was what solidified him as the perfect leader; he wasn't a _stronger_ or a _weaker_; he was just… one of them.

...

...

...

The smithery was cool and dark, mostly because Gobber and Hiccup weren't working so there wasn't a big fire going. Astrid peeked around a bit, looking at all the weapons on the wall and wondering if they had any dull metal spikes lying around. Probably not; those weren't the type of things to be saved for any time she needed it. Figuring it was probably better to come back tomorrow, Astrid turned around to exit, only to catch Hiccup grinning at her from the doorway.

"Hey," he greeted, and she wondered how long he had been standing there. Her mouth went dry.

"Hi."

"Need something?"

"Ah," Astrid flushed, glancing down at her skirt. She touched it rather pointlessly, grinning at him. "I'm missing some of the spikes on my skirt," she informed him. He chuckled, pushing off the doorway and placing his hand on the small of her back, urging her to his space at the back of the smirthery.

"Come on; I might have some spare parts." She followed him there, into his private workspace; the place where he came up with crazy ideas and thought about all the things that made him… different. She could see it the minute she entered the room, all the detailed drawings and complicated phrases spilling over from one page to the next. The back of the room had some barrels of metal and leather, which made Astrid guess that his workspace was also a bit of a storage room.

"Sit down on the desk," Hiccup said as he made his way to the storage area. Astrid did so without complaint, hopping onto the slanted desk with ease. Hiccup looked as though he was going to be preoccupied for awhile, so the curious Viking started to look around his desk. She picked up a few drawings, but they were much too crude and complicated for her to understand, not to mention she was just plain uninterested. But there wasn't much to look at; Hiccup didn't keep things like axes and swords in his work area. Well… except _that_.

Astrid snagged the helmet from where it hung on a nail above her head, inspecting it. One of the horns was crooked, so she twisted it back into place. It was rather sturdy, and she vaguely remembered it from the dragon killing ceremony. Hiccup had thrown it away in order to gain the full trust of the Monstrous Nightmare. Stoick the Vast had gone absolutely insane after he did that, ordering the ceremony to end and slamming his hammer on one of the rails of the dome. She had always thought it was a bit strange, how he had only ordered the match to end after the helmet was gone, but not when the sword or the shield was dropped. Why was that?

"You know, that helmet is the other half of my mom's breastplate." Astrid, startled, whipped her hand off the top of the helmet, looking up at Hiccup's grinning face. He was walking towards her with a few dull spikes in his hand. She looked back down at the helmet, finally registering his words.

"This was your mother's?" she asked, and he nodded, still grinning.

"Half of it, yeah. My dad's got the other half. Says it keeps her close." He settled down in his chair, scooting closer to her skirt and lifting it to poke the spikes through some of the empty holes. Astrid watched him closely, suddenly aware of how near they were; she could only see the top of his ginger-coloured hair.

"Does it?" she asked, and he shrugged. The two of them lulled into silence after that, Hiccup working diligently on her skirt. His fingers were nimble and professional, not being touchy-feely and teasing like Astrid expected them to be. He seemed to take a rather perverse pleasure in teasing her about her decidedly Viking-like take on romance and affection, and went out of his way to aggravate and embarrass her. It earned him quite a few nasty bruises, but he never seemed to mind.

"Okay, stand up," Hiccup told her after he finished filling all the empty holes at the front of her skirt. She hopped off the desk, turning around and placing his helmet on the spot she vacated. There was a lot of rustling and metal-clinking, originating from her skirt, before Astrid heard Hiccup's stool creak, signalling he had risen. She waited for him to back away, but jumped a bit when his lips pressed softly on the nape of her neck.

"Hiccup—" she started, only for him to hush softly at her. His hands wrapped around her tiny waist, and the rest of him followed, pressing into her. Astrid shivered when she felt his breath ghost along her neck, and then even more when it was his mouth. His arms wrapped around her fully, his nose nuzzling her cheek. One of his hands reached out and softly touched the helmet that was once a piece of armour that protected his mother's heart. A piece of armour that now protected his preciously intelligent mind.

"I miss her everyday, helmet or not," he whispered to her. And then he was gone, like the wind.

...

...

...

Later that night, Hilda looked up from tending to the fire, watching her daughter walk into the house. She stood up, sensing something was wrong when Astrid looked so forlorn and was consciously avoiding her mother's eyes.

"Mom… about… about the wedding…" Hilda blinked, a little taken back. Astrid had wanted nothing to do with the wedding or the wedding negotiations, claiming it to be irrelevant to her kick-butt Viking lifestyle.

"Yes?" Hilda urged, the prolonged pause making her impatient. She supposed that was where her daughter got it from.

"I, um… I was wondering if… if you had already started making the dress." Astrid looked up, her face nervous and clearly uncomfortable. Hilda smiled warmly.

"No, I haven't dear. I have some ideas though. What do you think about flowers?"

"No way!"

"Astrid…"

"Okay, maybe just _one_…"


End file.
